


Happy Accidents

by nomequedamas



Category: The Tonight Show starring Jimmy Fallon - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-01
Updated: 2016-02-01
Packaged: 2018-05-17 15:17:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomequedamas/pseuds/nomequedamas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I have zero self-control and now I have an express ticket to hell. I just received it in the mail today. It's kinda cute.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Accidents

You just barely had the presence of mind to flip the light switch on as you stumbled into your apartment, Jimmy shutting the door behind you. Alcohol soared through your veins and set your nerves on fire. His lips met yours and the two of you stepped backwards until you found your way to the bed in your room. Clothing was shed. It had fulfilled its purpose. Your television was left on. Bob Ross reruns are playing. How many gin and tonics did the two of you drink? His hand slides up your back. It's 1:45am. Numbers no longer matter. _"There's no such thing as mistakes, only happy accidents."_ Thanks Bob. A swift movement and the clasp snaps off. This isn't child's play anymore. Perhaps that was the wrong euphemism. He met your gaze, eyes shining with inebriation. His kisses reeked of alcohol. This is definitely a good decision. You felt his weight push against you to flip you onto all fours. He laid below you, sloppily unzipping his pants and pulling them down. Time to shine. You wrapped your lips around him, and hear a groan. A good decision indeed. His fingers lock in your hair, tugging softly as your head slowly bobs up and down. He twitches and catches his breath.  
"Stop." You look up. He sits up, gathers you into his arms, and lays you on your back. His brow furrows. You knew what he was asking.  
"I take birth control. You don't need one."  
"Really?"  
"Yes." He was hesitant. It was obvious he'd never done this without the glove before. With a grunt, he pushed in.  
"Oh..." His grip tightened on your waist. This was a very new sensation for him. His eyes squeezed shut and he bit his lip. You felt unusually full. A pace picked up. Sweat built. Your skin was slick against his.  
"God." Your back arched and his mouth fell open. Toes curled and nails dug into skin, leaving small scratches. His lips met yours again, and as his hand came up to brush your hair back, you saw his wedding ring catch the light for a fraction of a second. The precious metal felt cold on the hot skin of your face.  
"I've wanted to do this for so long," He blurts out between kisses. He was getting there. His hand gripped your hair and pulled your head back just slightly.  
"How long?" It never hurts to ask.  
"Since I first met you." Whoa. That long? You press your lips against his neck. "You were so beautiful and I was so lonely... I would fantasize." Before you could process this, he hit something inside of you and your knees shook and your eyes rolled back. "Just like that," he continued. "I wanted to hear that. I wanted to do this in my office, before meetings. I never acted upon it, though." You grabbed his face and squeezed his cheeks.  
"You're not supposed to be this coherent." You flipped the two of you over and straddled him. That did something right. You felt his muscles tense under his skin and he bit his lip so hard it bled. As you rolled your hips forward, he quickly came apart, his low voice encouraging you. You tensed and felt the familiar sensation of insemination. His face was euphoric, almost. And just as fast as it seemed to come, it was over. Your body felt weak and you crumpled at his side, shoulders heaving. He was full-on basking in afterglow.  
"Wow." A smile. "I had never done this before." You chuckled.  
"Clearly." Your brain cleared and the alcohol that once burned was now a dull sting. This was wrong. This was very very wrong. "Oh no."  
"What's wrong?" You began to dissociate. Not now. Of all times... His voice sounded so far away and everything seemed slow. "Are you okay?" Tears escaped your eyes. You didn't give them permission.  
"Yes," you choked. That was the worst lie you've ever told. He wrapped his arms around you. "We did this, right? I'm not dreaming?"  
"No, you're not dreaming. Although it felt like one." He grinned. Grinning denotes happiness, right? You put your hand on your forehead. Reality slowly started to swim back to you and you became embarrassed. Your cheeks flushed and you escaped his embrace.  
"Jimmy."  
"This was amazing. This was..." Then, it seemed to happen to him too. His eyes lost their shine and he suddenly seemed mortified.  
"This was a mistake." Jimmy said, pushing the covers down and sitting up. You reached over and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it.  
"You bet it was." He coughed.  
"You smoke?" You took a drag. Nicotine centered you.  
"I practice many vices. Like sleeping with married men." He harrumphed. Swinging your legs, you stepped out of the bed and looked out your window. It was musty and dirty, but you could still see the city. "Many vices. These aren't even the worst." He stood and you heard him begin to dress himself.  
"Everyone has their shortcomings." A laugh burst out from your lungs.  
"My comings are so short, they never arrive." A chuckle.  
"You're witty."  
"That's about the only honest compliment you could give me." You turn and face him, crushing the half-smoked cigarette on the windowsill. Lipstick was smeared on his mouth, your highlighter shone on his face. He probably even smelled like you, too. "You're gonna go home like that?"  
"Do you mind if I wash up in your restroom?"  
"I don't see why not. If you scrub hard enough, maybe it'll be like this never happened." He glares. If you can get him to hate you, then you won't have to deal with heartache. You may have to find a new job, though. "Where does she think you are, at 3am on a Saturday?"  
"She never asks. She knows I know a lot of people and go out a lot." The faucet squeaks on.  
"I'd suggest a shower. We both smell musty, like sex." Faucet off. Shower on. You smile.  
"So what's your deal?" He asks as the water sprays him. "Why are you so..."  
"Pathetic?" You anticipate.  
"No. I was going to say fragile. At work, you try so hard to convince everyone you're some stoic, strong person."  
"Did it work?"  
"Until tonight." You let his answer hang in the stale air as you threw on a huge t-shirt and wandered to your tiny kitchen. "Tonight," he continued, "I learned you're hurting a lot more than you let on."  
"Yeah? Well, tonight I learned you're sexually dissatisfied a lot more than you let on." No response. Figures. You open up a bag of potato chips and perch on your kitchen counter. Shower off. You turn as the door opens and he's glaring at you, with a towel around his head. How does he expect you to take him seriously? There's no point in trying to hide your laughter. "What's so funny?"  
"You look like a fool."  
"You are a fool." He laughs and walks closer to you, wrapping his arm around your waist. You fell silent.  
"Don't make another mistake," You warned, breaking free and entering the restroom for yourself. "You just showered." You wiped your face with a cleansing wipe, watching as the makeup transferred from your skin to the towel.  
"Shit, you're right." You heard the towel fall to the floor and he shook out his hair.  
"Pick that up." He scoffed and obliged, taking the towel into the restroom and hanging it on the rack.  
"You still haven't told me yet."  
"I'm not obligated to."  
"Sure, but you need to reach out to someone. No man is an island."  
"I'm a woman." He looked at you through the bathroom mirror. You knew what he meant.  
"The same principle applies." The bathroom fan whirred almost in annoyance as another silence fell upon the apartment. Was it just you, or was the room getting smaller?  
"I'll think about it." He laughed. You realized that was the first time he'd laughed since the two of you entered your apartment in a drunken stupor. There was nothing to laugh about then.  
"Can I ask why you're getting dressed? It's 3:18, you're really gonna go home to your wife right now?" He glanced at you and then the clock, as if it would suddenly change.  
"I'd wake up the kids."  
"Everyone at the office knows I'm gay anyways, no one will bat an eyelash that you stayed with me." Suddenly, his eyes fill with amusement.  
"That's right. Aren't you gay? Did I turn a gay woman straight?" He seemed way too proud of himself.  
"Hardly. By the way, aren't you married?" Immediate frowning. Serves him right.  
"Touché. But you're right, nobody will suspect a thing." His face lightened a bit. You grinned.  
"It's the perfect crime."  
"I thought you said we weren't gonna make any more mistakes?" His hand reached out and cupped your cheek.  
"You can take another shower. Maybe if you scrub hard enough—"  
"—I want to remember that this happened." The ice maker clanked in the background as your vision became tunneled. It couldn't be possible that you were drunk again, you sobered up a while ago and hadn't had anything to drink since then. That meant one thing: the tightness you felt in your chest wasn't inebriation.  
Before you could think of a rebuttal, you felt his mouth on yours again.  
"You can't fix me," You murmured against his lips.  
"But I can be a temporary solution."  
Bob Ross' words shone in your mind. You smiled to yourself. The clock said 3:21. Another mistake couldn't hurt that much. After all, it was just a happy accident.


End file.
